Not the best life
by SchizophrenicLolliPop
Summary: “Rosalie!” “Jacob!” "Emmett!" A tall, bulky boy shouted as he walked into the room.


"Bella! Get out! Go! Hurry!" mom yelled from the kitchen. I ran down stairs and found my Father, Charlie, had returned from who-knows-where. He was tall, many feet taller than me, five-four. His chin was coated with stubble and his hair was a mess. He walked back and forth, muttering to himself and searching for something at the same time. He stopped, walked over to the counter, opened a drawer and took out a rolling pin and spatula and walked back to mom. He raised his arm and hit her with the rolling pin, then the side of the spatula. She fell to the ground, cheek bleeding, mouth wide. He stood over her. "Go" she managed to gasp before Charlie kicked her, foot landing square in the back. I grabbed the phone off the counter, hiding behind the wall as I dialed 911, and then placed it back after ordering the cops. Charlie started screaming about mom's pathetic crying. Voices came from the phone.

I ran to my room locking the door behind me and shoving a chair under the knob. I grabbed my cell phone and dialed the first number that came to mind. I ran to my dresser, grabbing my already packed duffel bag, mom had me pack one for the occasion that Charlie or my brother Justin came home, and ran for the window. I tried to lift it open but it was so heavy. A voice spoke from somewhere. I remembered my phone.

I ran to the bed and grabbed it. "Hello? Hello? Oh, please god, don't hand up. Please."

"Hello? Bella? Is that you? Why are you calling me at three in the morning?" he didn't sound tired at all.

"Edward?! Oh my god! You have to come get me! Now! Charlie's here. Please," I heard a deeper voice in the back round, but was too hysterical to think much of it.

"Wait. Who? Charlie? Your father, Charlie? Get out of that house, now. I don't care how, just get out. We're coming to get you."

I didn't think anything of it when he 'we', I just climbed out my window onto the roof then onto the cold, snowy, ground. I heard the door open behind me. "Bella! You get back in here now, or you know what will come to _mommy_."

I ran around the house to the front and, realizing I didn't have any shoes on, ran back to the front door. We had a balcony over the porch, so the shoes were dry but cold. I could see where my father had picked the now broken lock. The door sung open at my touch. He came barreling out, grabbing my wrists in his big bloody hands. I screamed and kicked at his touch, my empty stomach heaving at the stench of a cold bloody murder. I forced my knee up and it made contact with his groin. His breath left in a moan of agony as he doubled over in pain. I grabbed my other shoe and made a run for it with my duffel bag slung across my chest.

A few hours later I stopped, miles away from the town I used to call home, to pull my shoe onto my numb, frozen foot. The sidewalks were slick with ice as I walked towards a school. I was about to pull my cell phone out of my pocket, when a car drove up. I walked to the curb and stuck out my thumb out. The driver pulled up beside me and stopped. The passenger door flew open and the interior lights flashed on. It was Edward. Someone was seated in the seat beside him, glaring at me.

I paused, foot in the air. I took a step back, the motion causing me to slip. I tried to catch myself only to fall, with little dignity, onto my ass.

Edward gasped and ran out of the car to help me off the ground, only to fall flat on his face.

"Wow," The blond girl murmured, getting out helping us into the cab. "I really can't see why you like her so much." She looked at Edward and chuckled. I glared up at her.

_Shut the hell up,_ I thought towards her, though I knew she couldn't here me. Her golden eyes flashed to mine, as if she had heard me. I looked away. 

We stopped when we reached the cab. The girl held out a hand as if to help me into the cab, but I ignored it and slipped in, with absolutely no grace. I placed my foot on the frozen step, slipped and fell into the snow. I heard Edward chuckle and reached over to pull him down beside me, when a pale hand whipped out and grabbed it. If the hand was warm at all, then I didn't notice but it felt colder than the snow. Edward didn't seem to notice.

She released my hand and I hauled myself up, ready to try again. Instead of climbing in I decided to jump, using an ice covered snow bank as leverage. I stepped onto the bank—one foot sinking under, the snow diving into the shoe—positioned myself, moving a little to the right, and jumped. I made the jump, thanks to the pale person with really cold hands.

I took a seat beside Edward and looked over as the beautiful girl got in. I'd never actually noticed before, but she looked…acted… perfect. Her chin and cheek bones were perfectly angular, her blond hair was straight down her back and looked so perfect that one had to think it was unnatural, and his lips…they were… just…perfect. Her eyes weren't gold anymore, but instead were a darker color, almost black.

I was still staring when she turned around. She stared back, studied me and spoke in her perfect voice. "Edward, someone's behind us. Let me drive." I looked out the passenger window. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and there was a pink tinge over everything but I could see well enough to tell it was Justin's car. My father was driving—well actually, he was speeding—towards us, Justin's hand hung out the window. There was a dark object in his clenched fist. The car lurched onto the road as a shot rang out. I screamed and Edward, who was hunched down on the seat, pulled me closer. I looked over to find the girl behind the wheel, though I thought Edward was there just seconds ago. I looked into the mirror and saw Charlie hanging out the passenger window, one of Justin was now in the driver's seat. The car got closer as Charlie positioned himself onto the front of the car. We were bumper to bumper when Justin climbed into the bed of the truck.

I was surprisingly calm when I said, "Can't this thing go any faster?! He's in the back." Okay, so calm wasn't the right word.

He was out of view of the mirror. I rolled up the open window, but it was stuck and wouldn't go up without a fight. An arm appeared in the open window and grabbed my shirt, pulling me out the window. I jerked away. Another hand grabbed for my throat, but instead, scratched my face. By that time Edward stopped screaming long enough to pull me away from the window. The girl behind the wheel, who happened to be smirking like this was nothing new to her, swerved to the right causing Charlie to falter and slip. He fell, grabbing the roof of the car, his fingers digging into the metal. I screamed, as his figure appeared in the window, again—this man just doesn't give up. He punched the glass, and it shattered all over, well, everywhere, really. The crazy chick swerved again, trying to dislodge him but he wouldn't budge. Instead he reached through the window and grabbed my throat with a grip so strong that he'd probably rip it out if someone tried to pull me back. No one grabbed me or tried to pull me back, they just sat there. I groped for something to hold on to, but he was pulling me out to fast. A sharp point on my palm told me I'd found something. I picked it up, realizing that it was a large piece of glass. I pulled my arm back and stabbed him in the shoulder. He howled in pain and let go of both the roof and my throat, falling to the road below. I turned back to the others, eyes wide. I met the girl's golden gaze, then Edward's as he hugged me. I sat back, eyes still wide. Dark spots clouded my vision. The last thing I saw before the world went black was the Edward's face, his beautiful golden eyes.

I woke in a room that wasn't recognizable. The walls were light blue, with a window that almost touched the ceiling, with yellow lace curtains. I sat up to see more of the room. There was a desk with an old computer, a rocking chair in the far corner, and a closet. In the rocking chair sat the girl, in the dark corner of the room, watching me.

"Who are you?" I asked. I looked around for Edward.

"Who was that last night? And why was he after you?" She just ignored my question, replying it with another.

I decided to answer, instead of playing the question game. "I don't know." I lied. Tears were dripping down my face. _The damn bastard beat my mother to death. He beat her because she kicked him out of the house, sent him away. He cracked! The bastard cracked! And now no one's safe._ In my mind there was a mini me. At the moment, mini me was curled into a ball, rocking back and forth. She stared at me with intent eyes, then sighed and disappeared out of the room.

Edward walked into the room and came to my side, hugging me tight. "I'm so sorry." He whispered. "They were showing it on television…" I started sobbing violently. He rocked me back and forth, trying to calm me. I sobbed harder.

It went like that for a few days. Everyone would leave for school or work, leaving me all alone with my thoughts wondering. I'd turn on the television, flipping through the channels, not really watching. Sometimes, before anyone got home, I'd flip to a random channel. I flipped to one and put down the clicker so I wouldn't be tempted to change it to the news.

There was only one person on the screen, but in the back round you could hear girly laughs, telling the watcher that she wasn't alone. She opened the fridge, reaching in and pulling three cans of soda out and placing them on the counter while an orchestra played covering the sounds of laughter. She walked to the other side of the room, opened a cupboard. The music got louder as she hesitated to pull out the bottle of rum from the cupboard. Suddenly, she slammed the door closed and screamed as a man came from nowhere, causing her to scream again as he raised the butchers knife.

I screamed and jumped behind the couch, thinking about Charlie and how he'd done the same thing to my mother. The screaming stopped as I started sobbing. I heard the door open, and someone ran in and up the stairs. At the same time something hit my back of my shirt. I jumped out of my hiding spot screaming and stared at the lamp I'd accidentally knocked over. A loud noise sounded from up stairs, footfalls came from the hall, and suddenly Edward was there beside me. There was a loud crack from the television. I screamed and jumped back, bumping into Edward and screaming again as a bronze-skinned boy came into the room, his entire frame shaking. The two boys glared at each other; I was still screaming a short pixie like girl with spiked black hair ran into the room. On television, the murderer was about to kill he final victim when another man walked in. the pixie flipped it out before I could see any more.

She came to my side, herding me into the kitchen. The boys followed. I sat at the table watching as the two men in the kitchen circled each other, both wrinkling their noses. I sniffed the air, but the only thing I smelled was the fragrance of the chicken noodle soup that another woman was making. She had light brown hair, pail skin and looked to be in her late twenties.

"That's enough, both of you." She said in a rough voice that a mother might use with her children. I instantly thought of my mother. I put my head in my hands and sobbed silent sobs. The guys looked at me with confused expressions hiding their anger with each other. The tall boy, the one with russet skin, and dark eyes that matched his hair, sat down beside me. Edward sat on the other side and then other the girl—the one with the blond hair, the one with the eyes that were almost gold as she looked at Edward but when her eyes flashed to mine, they turner dark again—stood. It was the way she stood in the sun her skin almost looked like it sparkled, but I couldn't tell because she caught me staring again and stepped back.

"Bella, I'm so sorry about your mother, but he's not going to get to you, okay?" the pixie, who's name I learned was Alice, said as she whipped away a tear that trickled down my cheek. I'd stopped sobbing but tears kept falling.

"Why? What happened to her mother?" The boy beside me asked. I'd put my head on Alice's shoulder as she rubbed my arm. My tears had stained her shirt.

I saw Edward shake her head. "Her mother was killed by her sycotic older brother." The blond haired girl murmured. I lifted my head and stared at her in surprise. I never told her that.

"Rosalie!" Edward accused.

"Why?" the other boy spoke to Rosalie, ignoring Edward completely.

"Jacob!" I felt Alice kick him under the table.

"Emmett!" A tall, bulky boy shouted as he walked into the room.

"Sorry, but I'm curious," he explained, ignoring Emmett. "I can't read minds like _you_." Edward growled at him. Wait…Edward can read minds? When did this happen?

"Its not like I can read her mind anyway," Edward clarified, looking at me curiously. He flashed his eyes to Jacob. "And I don't read minds, I listen to them." His eyes flashed back to mine in a cold, hard glare.

"Well I still want to know why the heck she would be here. If he killed her mother, then she must have done something wrong." Jacob accused. His dark eyes shot to mine.

There was a knock at the door. Everyone froze. I pulled away from Alice and ran onto the hall, up the stairs and into Edward's bedroom. I slammed the door behind me and sagged against it. I heard the door open downstairs. I heard Rosalie speak, then a deeper voice from the stranger at the door. I recognized the voice. It was Justin.

_What is he doing here? How did they find me here? Oh, my god._ Someone stomped up the stairs walked a few steps to the door, and knocked. I scrambled away from the door and to the closest hiding place I could find, which happened to be the closet. I crawled in and shut the door behind me, pinching my finger under it. The knocking suddenly stopped. I heard the voices down stairs get louder as the door open, then quieter as the door closed again. I heard someone sit on the bed. They didn't move, just sat there, breathing deeply, and humming something. I sobbed quietly. The humming stopped, I stiffened. Someone sagged against the door. "Why are you hiding in the closet?" Jacob's whispered voice was muffled by the door, but I heard him perfectly. "There are so many better places to hide. The bathroom has a lock on the door; the garage has an open able door. And the kitchen has knives and sharp objects you could use as weapons." He paused. "That man down there…he was old…he was looking for you…we lied and told him we didn't know you…umm…is he your father or your uncle or something?" he waited. I didn't answer. "He's gone you know? You can come out now. Or you can stay in there and probably suffocate. But that's up to you."

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. A sigh from outside the door told me he was thinking. His pressure eased up on the door and I heard the bed springs creek in protest as he sat on the bed. I silently opened the closet door but wasn't sure if I wanted to get out. I heard another sigh from the bed. The room was dark, and I couldn't see anything, but I knew he was there.

I took another deep breath and slid out of the closet to sit against the wall.

For about ten minutes I watched him. He took a deep breath, his chest and stomach rising and falling. His legs hung over the side of the bed, arms were placed on his stomach. I crawled over to the bed. His breaths were even; he looked as if he were asleep. His face was calm, his eyes closed. I reached out to touch his face. His face was warm as warm as his hand, which had wrapped around my wrist in a bone crushing grip that would probably leave a bruise. _Why is everyone here so strong? _I tried to pull away, but he kept my hand glued to his cheek. I stopped struggling and, figuring he was still asleep, tried to wake him. "Hello? Jacob? Wake up. Please?" I paused, thinking. I flicked his ear. He didn't stir. I tried to pull away again but couldn't get free.

I heard a chuckle behind me. I spun around and saw Edward at the same time Jacob shot off the bed. I was thrown behind him. I fell on my knees, my hands shot out in front of me. My wrist turned at a wrong angle, sparks shooting up my arm when I landed on it. I screamed in pain and rolled onto my side, hitting my head on the back of Jacob's legs. I screamed again and rolled away clutching my hand to my chest.

Edward was across the room and back with me in his arms within seconds. Jacob took one step after him, then thought better of it and stayed put, wrinkling his nose in disgust. I never noticed the tears in my eyes until Edward whipped them away. He took my swollen wrist into his nice cold hand to examine it. I felt like an icepack but it felt so good I didn't want to take it off. I whimpered as he poked around the more swollen parts.

"I think it's broken." He said, pointing out the obvious. He looked at me and frowned

I glared at him through the waves of pain. "You think?" my voice quavered a bit, but I could still hear the sarcasm, so I was going to live.

His face suddenly looked pained. He looked away as to hide the agony that showed in his eyes. I spared him an apologetic smile, a smile that couldn't have been genuine because of all the pain I was feeling, but he smiled back. His gaze fell down to my wrist, still held in my hand. He quickly shot up from his crouched position on the floor. "We have to get you to a Carlisle." He flipped me onto his back propelled himself through the door, right into Alice, who staggered back and collapsed against the wall under the force Edward had used. Another cold hand dragged me up and another flashed out to help Alice off the floor.

Alice looked at Edward, my wrist then Edward again. "What happened?" she grabbed my wrist in a painful grasp that left tears in my eyes.

"I think I accidentally broke her wrist." Jacob said from behind us as he eyed my hand with discomfort. "So now I'm going to take her to a hospital."

Alice looked at Edward. "Why don't we take her to Carlisle?"

"I already thought of that," Edward said as Jacob started to drag me down the stairs. "But the mutt wants to take her to the hospital."

Twenty minutes, and a million apologies later, I had a wrist brace was roughly strapped over my not-so-broken wrist.


End file.
